


The Shadow of Truth

by uraniangirl



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, F/F, F/M, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27833278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uraniangirl/pseuds/uraniangirl
Summary: The Apprentice and Julian have defeated The Devil, so what naturally follows should be a happily ever after. But there are things still left unsaid--hidden truths that have been born alone for too long. For there to be any chance at a happy ending, everyone must face the past.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Julian Devorak
Kudos: 4





	The Shadow of Truth

**Author's Note:**

> (This story is written so that the Apprentice is neutral and can be interpreted as any gender and with any name. It assumes the Apprentice took Julian's route and takes place after the canon upright end. It's written in the same style and tense as the game.)

It was warm the day Asra told me the truth.

I remember the sun beating down on my skin as I lay outside in the courtyard of the palace with Julian. The two of us are sprawled out on a picnic blanket, his head in my lap. I stroke his hair absently, my eyes closed as I soak in the heat of the day. I am content, and so, it seems, is Julian. When was the last time we had been like this?

Never.

Someone clears their throat, and then Asra’s voice comes quietly, as if not to disturb me. He calls my name.

I open my eyes and see him standing before me, looking aggrieved.

“Asra? What is it?” I ask, concerned.

Julian pops his good eye open to take the magician in.

“You look like you’ve just seen Lucio’s ghost,” Julian says, as though hardly concerned.

“Can we talk?” Asra asks me, and then his eyes dart to Julian and he adds, “Alone?”

I glance down and meet Julian’s quizzical look, his brows arched to indicate he’s wondering the same thing I am: what could Asra possibly have to say to me that Julian couldn’t hear after all we’d been through?

“I suppose,” I say uncertainly.

Julian sits up and Asra moves to help me up. As I take his hand, we exchange a small burst of energy. His magic washes over me, which I would normally find gentle and reassuring. This time, though, it’s reminiscent of a chaotic and unexpected ocean wave, the inhalation of water into the lungs, the unpleasant feeling of drowning for five agonizing seconds, the sense of disorientation as the force of it knocks you sideways.

I can’t help but let out a small gasp. Something’s really bothering him.

Julian looks at me with concern as I stand, but I meet his gaze with a reassuring smile and break my grasp with Asra.

“I’ll be back soon,” I say to him.

Asra gives a curt nod.

With that we set off for the palace. I let him lead the way; he clearly knows where he wants to go to discuss whatever it is he wants to discuss.

_What_ does _he want to discuss? What is this about?_ I wonder. His normally lighthearted demeanor has become quite serious.

When we are climbing the stairs of the veranda and are sufficiently out of earshot of Julian, I ask, “Asra? What is this about?”

“Not here,” he says.

I start to feel a little annoyed. Mysterious as ever. Can’t he tell me anything?

We walk in silence into the palace, down a hallway being cleaned up from the Masquerade. The servants pay us no mind, but the person directing them glances our way and her face lights up.

Portia.

“Good afternoon Master Magicians!” she says.

Asra nods and says nothing.

“Hello Portia,” I say, trying to be friendly despite the heavy air being cast by Asra. Portia immediately picks up on it, frowning.

“Is something the matter? Where’s Ilya?”

I motion behind us.

“He’s fine. I left him outside in the courtyard. My master and I just need to...”

At the use of the word “master,” Asra glances down at me with a complicated expression I can’t quite read. Bemusement? Pain? A touch of… was it? Satisfaction?

“… talk,” I finish, looking from him to Portia, trying to hide my expression of confusion and worry.

“I see,” Portia says, not quite convinced. “Is there anything milady should be aware of?”

“No, no need to involve Nadia. It’s a personal matter,” Asra replies.

A personal matter? My mind is burning with curiosity. Asra has been so distant with me lately, and now suddenly he has “personal matters” that he can only discuss alone with me? What is going on?

“Well, the library is quiet this time of day. You can go there to discuss matters of a… personal… nature,” Portia says, her discretion impeccable.

“Thank you, Portia,” I say as we depart for the library.

We are silent the rest of the way there. I walk in first, leaving Asra to close the doors behind us. I go a little way in before turning around to regard him as he faces me.

“What is this about?” I ask.

“Why do you still call me your master?” Asra says.

I falter, caught off-guard. This can’t be what he brought me here to talk about.

“You are my master. I’m your apprentice.”

“Are you?” he asks, looking me over. “Not anymore. You’re a magician in your own right. There’s not much else I could teach you.”

“That’s not true,” I say, stepping towards him. “You’ve been to so many more places, seen so many more things. I still don’t remember everything. I still have so much to learn.”

Asra meets my gaze with his violet eyes silently, and they flash with the slightest look of sorrow.

“What did you bring me here to talk about?” I ask, pressing him.

Another flicker. Asra’s normal composure and detachment is gone; something is wrong, without a doubt. I reach out with my magic to sense his aura, and a tide of turmoil washes over me. I take another step closer.

“Asra,” I say softly.

“I’m… afraid,” he says finally. “I’m afraid to tell you. I’m afraid to hurt you again, but I can’t bear this secret alone any longer.”

Concern etches itself into my expression at his words.

“What is it? After everything we’ve seen, everything we’ve done—”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he interrupts me, laughing hollowly.

“You can tell me anything,” I say, trying to reassure him.

“You say that, but I can’t. I’ve tried to tell you before,” he says, anguish seeping into his voice as he steps towards me.

At the sound of his voice I reach out for his hand instinctively and take it in mine. Once again, our magics bridge together and encompass one another; once again the sensation strikes me of drowning and being knocked off balance, of sucking in a lungful of water and choking on it.

After recovering and processing his words, I feel a small sense of annoyance return.

“Tried to tell me what? What did you bring me here for? What is it?” I demand.

Asra tries to break contact, but I hold tightly onto his hand.

“ _What is it_?” I repeat. “Just let me in for once!”

“Fine! It’s you! And Ilya… Julian. And it’s… I…” he falters, looking at me earnestly. “I… I love you.”

I stare at him, and the true nature of his feelings are revealed to me through the magical bond we share in this moment. He’s been hiding it from me this whole time. The effort it must have taken to hide something so great from someone so close… no wonder he tried to keep me at a distance.

“I’ve always loved you,” he continues, gripping my hand tightly. “You don’t remember, but we were… together… before. For six years. You loved me, too. Before,” he pauses. “Before you died.”

“We were?” I ask, dazed. “I did?”

I struggle to remain standing. Asra whispers my name, reaching his other hand out for my waist to steady me.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m… fine,” I mumble as a wave of dizziness passes over me, and I focus again on his face. The edges of my vision are still hazy.

“Every time I’ve tried to tell you, you’d pass out from the pain of remembering. I’ve tried so many times, I gave up finally when you and Ilya met again,” Asra explains, and then that look of sorrow crosses his face once more. This time it stays. “But I can’t bear it any longer. I had to try again. Maybe now that you are stronger, you can bear the weight of our history.”

My vision clears and I shake my head. A dull thud starts to fill my skull; a familiar feeling, though not as powerful as times past. A pain I can manage.

I’m at a loss for words, and I say as much. Asra looks down at me softly and cups my cheek in his hand.

“You don’t know how hard it’s been,” he says quietly.

“But you’ve always pushed me away,” I blurt out, starting to feel heated. “Asra, I… I tried to connect with you so many times over the past three years, and you always shut me out!”

“I was afraid! I had to let your memories come back to you on their own time,” he says. “But then… you met Ilya again.”

I search his face, his expression a myriad of feelings. I know they were in a past relationship, too, though I know very little about it. How must he feel, knowing two people he’s loved are now in love with each other?

“This isn’t fair. I don’t remember. I’m with Julian now,” I say, reciting my various thoughts in rapid succession. “What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know. I, I don’t know,” Asra murmurs repeatedly.

I pull away from him, breaking the flow of our magic, and walk across the room of the library. He follows me for a few steps.

“Does Julian know? Does he remember?” I ask.

“I don’t think so. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to me. Or you,” Asra adds, although a quaver in his voice betrays his uncertainty of that.

“Wouldn’t he?” I say coolly.

Julian has many qualities, but on the list of things that define him, facing the awful truth with dignity and grace is not one of them. I wouldn’t put it past him to gloss over memories that didn’t serve him or worse: did him a disservice.

Asra’s expression hardens, but before the two of us can resolve to have a word with the good doctor the doors to the library burst open and he walks in, his pale face flushed from the warmth outside still. The smile on his face fades slightly as he reads the room.

“Ah, my apologies, I didn’t realize you two were attending a funeral,” he says jokingly.

Incorrigible.

“Julian—”

“Ilya—”

Asra and I speak at the same time. We exchange glances, and then he nods at me to take the lead. I decide blunt is the best way to go.

“Julian, did you know about Asra and I? That… we were in love before I died?” I ask.

“I, uh, you—what?” Julian stammers. “Did I? I mean, did I know when I met you in your shop? No, I didn’t even know _we_ had met before.”

“That’s not what I asked,” I say coldly.

“Did you ever remember that I loved her? Still love her? That she—that I—” Asra struggles for words to describe what we’d been to each other, trying to articulate every feeling and everything that had happened between us. So much that I don’t remember.

Julian looks between the two of us, then looks down, and clears his throat.

“Yes… When I met the Hanged Man and regained my memories, one of them was about the relationship you had with her. The feelings you had for her. The fight you had.”

Julian looks up at Asra, whose back is to me. I can’t read his expression, but I know this is as much a betrayal for him as it is for me.

“You knew I brought her back after she died. You knew what I gave up for her. The sacrifice I made during the ritual because I love her,” Asra says, a tenseness seeping into his voice.

“No, I didn’t know that,” Julian says quickly, adding, “Although, I may have guessed at it eventually. But what happened that night is still much of a mystery to me.”

I struggle for words as they go back and forth. Asra did that for me? Perhaps he forgets that I didn’t know. I waver and lean against a table for support. He really loved me. Loves me. Why did he push me away?

“Steady, now,” Julian says suddenly as he looks at me, interrupting their heated conversation.

He walks towards me, but Asra is closer and gets there first. He reaches out for my hand and our magic reconnects. I feel a soothing swell come over me, much different than the chaos of before. His aura has changed now that he can be honest with me about his feelings. I sense his love and admiration for me, how proud he is of me, his waves of concern. He seems to know what he’s done.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. You didn’t know,” he says.

“I didn’t,” is all I can bring myself to say.

We stand in silence for a long moment until I muster the strength to ask the question burning inside me. I look directly at Asra.

“What did you sacrifice?”

He looks back at me for a long, hard moment. Julian is watching him carefully. Apparently, he doesn’t know, either. The question hangs in the air of what Asra would give up to bring me back from death. How far would he go?

“I gave up my heart,” he says finally, solemnly. Then adds, “Or at least, part of it. I think I had to. I think… it became part of yours.”

I reach up and place a hand over my chest absently. I didn’t realize the depths of his love. How far he went. How far he would take it. And then for me to fall in love with Julian, a man he once had a relationship with, too, albeit a mostly physical one… It must have broken his heart.

Or what was left of it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper quietly, on the verge of tears.

The two of them look at me, each with confusion on their faces. Asra’s is the first to soften.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, radiating comfort through our connection. I feel slightly guilty as Julian looks on helplessly.

“I didn’t know. I couldn’t remember. And every time I tried to reach out to you, you pushed me away,” I say to Asra.

He looks down at me, his eyes filled with adoration for me. He still loves me, he said as much. What am I to do? I had long given up on kindling any sort of romantic relationship with Asra by the time I met Julian again. But now that he has told me the truth, I am starting to remember. Some of those feelings are starting to come back to me. What am I to do?

“Asra, Julian, I…”

I stumble over my words as tears well up in my eyes, a wealth of emotions swelling up inside of me. It strikes me how unfair it all is.

I break my hold of Asra and brush past him. As I walk towards the door of the library Julian makes a move for me, but I slip by him as well. I can feel tears starting to run down my cheeks. _It’s not fair_ , I say to myself repeatedly. _It’s not fair._

They both call after me as I leave the library in a rush, but neither one follows me out. I’m alone in the hallway. Without thinking about where I’m going, I turn and start to go down the hall.

I find myself outside again. An hour ago, I’d been out here, not a care in the world. An hour ago, I’d been happy.

I see the maze ahead of me and feel something tug me towards it. Listening to my instincts, I move towards the maze. By now I know it well enough to navigate it easily. I follow the winding pathways for a while and don’t pay attention to how much time passes. Eventually, I find myself at the fountain. There I sit on the lip of the fountain, staring down into the water. The tears have stopped. It’s quiet out here.

I remember now... Before this whole mess started, when I had first come to the palace, when Asra was still away on his journey, when I had only just met Julian again… I came out here to speak with Asra. He tried to tell me his feelings then, but it hurt too much. I collapsed under the weight of the pain, and he had to take the memories away from me again. Just like every time before. He had tried.

For a moment, I wish there were a way for me to know what to do. What would be the right decision to make? And then I hear the distant call of the cards, reminding me that the answers I seek are out there. I pull out my tarot deck from my bag and split it in my hands, shuffling it carefully as I think about my intentions. After several shuffles, I split it into three piles and lay them in front of me. I run my hand over each, feeling the weight of the call of the cards as I think about the questions for which I am seeking answers.

I think… this one.

I pick the left pile up and set the other two aside. I fan it out and choose three cards from it, laying them out in a pyramid shape. I touch the first card, the Past: Asra. I flip it.

The World, upright. To encounter the World is to encounter a great unity and wholeness. Fulfillment and completion. I may not remember much about it, but this relationship made me feel complete. I was wholly content with it. I loved him dearly. What happened?

I reach out and touch the second card, the Present: Julian. I flip it.

Two of Cups, upright. An indication of a partnership that is built on a strong connection and equality. Each party’s emotions are intertwined with the other’s, and each participant’s feelings have profound effects on the other. A strong pair is indicated here.

I frown. That doesn’t help. Perhaps the next one will clarify.

I touch the third card, the Future. I flip it.

High Priestess, reversed. I am finding it difficult to listen to my intuition. It is time for me to try a novel approach, as the rational approach will not work. I should be following my gut, but I have been ignoring the call. There is a lot of confusion around me, and my actions feel contrary to what I know is right.

I sigh, exasperated, as I stack the cards and put them back into my bag. How am I supposed to listen to my intuition if I don’t know what it’s telling me?

Out of the corner of my eye the reflection in the water of the fountain catches my gaze as it ripples and fades. What appears next is a realm now familiar to me: that of The Magician’s. The bright starry sky and colorful beach waters reflect back at me, beckoning me to enter. I glance around once to see if I am alone, then carefully step into the water of the fountain. I close my eyes, and darkness envelops me, but only for a moment.

When I open my eyes again, I’m looking up at a sparkling sky full of winking stars. I can feel the warm sand beneath me, and I run it through my fingers as I sit up. I felt the Magician pulling me in, but he is no where to be seen. The Major Arcana can be that way sometimes. I carefully climb to my feet, dusting off my outfit.

I’ve only been here a couple times; more often than not, I’ve just heard about it from Asra. And I’ve never been here alone before. In fact, I’ve never dealt with a Major Arcana alone before, either. I’ve always had Asra’s guidance or Julian to back me up. I recall Asra’s warning about the Magician. He can be tricky sometimes, though he’s usually not dangerous.

“Hello?” I call out.

I walk a few steps down the beach, but no one is here. Typical. _No wonder he’s Asra’s patron_ , I think to myself.

I start to search the beach for a doorway back, but I don’t see anything. Perhaps the water? I walk a few feet out into the rolling surf and see a reflection of the palace garden in the water. I’m making my way towards it when a voice calls out.

“Leaving so soon?”

I turn around. The Magician is standing on the beach, arms crossed lightly. A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Oh, I see you decided to join me after calling me here,” I say, making it clear I’m in absolutely no mood for tricks or silly Arcana inscrutability.

“You were the one seeking guidance,” the Magician responds indifferently.

I walk back to join him on the shore.

“Are you going to offer any?” I ask.

The Magician opens his arms wide, inviting.

“What answers do you seek?”

“You know what I’m here for,” I say, annoyed.

He sighs, and I can tell he’s a bit disappointed I’m not playing along more.

“You already asked the cards,” the Magician says.

I nod.

“And what did they say?”

“That I should listen to my intuition,” I say.

“Perhaps you should try that,” the Magician suggests.

I give him an exasperated look.

“If I had any intuition about what sort of decision I was supposed to make, I wouldn’t be here,” I tell him.

He chuckles.

“You’re just not listening hard enough.”

I look out over the ocean, contemplating this. _No, he’s wrong._ I think to myself. _I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I have no idea._

“I can’t lie to you,” he says, reading my mind.

I give him a miffed look.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be wrong. People can be wrong and still think they’re telling the truth,” I say.

“Am I people, though?”

“… no,” I admit slowly. “You’re an anthropomorphic personification of an abstract concept. But still.”

The Magician chuckles again.

“The answers you seek are within. You needn’t have come here to find them,” he says.

We stand in silence for a while, and I think about this. After some time, I say quietly, “There’s so much I don’t remember. How can I expect to make the right decision when I don’t have all the information?”

“Perhaps it’s time to seek out that information. Perhaps you are strong enough,” says the Magician, echoing Asra’s earlier words.

“But… where? How?” I ask.

As if on cue, a rustling comes from behind us. I turn around to see what is making the noise, and a figure emerges from the brush: a small, tan dog, wearing a cloak and a knapsack and carrying a walking stick. Scout.

She barks once, beckoning me over with a paw. I glance at the Magician.

“It’s time for you to remember,” he says, returning my gaze.

I nod once and go to follow Scout as she turns to leave. As she leads me through the thick of the brush, I look back over my shoulder to where the Magician stood, but he’s already gone.


End file.
